


Just Suppose (The Rusty Nuts Remix)

by lacygrey



Series: Just Suppose [1]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Angst, Community: remix_redux, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacygrey/pseuds/lacygrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akira is a hard habit to break.</p><p>
  <i>A remix of Juxtaposition 3: 'Shifting'</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Suppose (The Rusty Nuts Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hostilecrayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Juxtaposition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/102599) by [hostilecrayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/pseuds/hostilecrayon). 



**Just Suppose (The Rusty Nuts Remix)**

 

He's becoming more demanding.

Now it feels as though he's coming to Akira more nights than he’s spending alone, but Akira never turns him away.  And, as the rhythm of their meetings quickens, Hikaru can't help but think of it like the rising tension of sex itself.  A point of make or break is coming.  He doesn't know what will happen or when, but it will be soon.

And he's doing nothing to prevent it.  It's as if it's inevitable, an accident waiting to happen, just like their beginnings.  Like the day he first kissed Akira because it was the obvious thing to do, even though it was like unleashing a hurricane.  Now it feels they are building to a point where the two of them will blur into one or explode apart forever.

But, when the cycle breaks, it isn't in a fight or a burst of passion.  Instead, it's in one of those precious quiet moments after lovemaking...After the second round, in fact, because Akira can be voracious.  Hikaru is lying with Akira's head on his chest, and Akira leaves a couple of lazy kisses there as Hikaru smooths his hair, runs his hands further down to caress his neck, shoulders, back.  Hikaru notices how they are breathing in time with one another and he tries to forget that this moment is only fleeting.  But, even so, he's trying to record it all, to absorb and memorize everything for later, and that makes him only more aware of how painfully short these times are.

"Akira?"

Akira just makes slight murmur, humming against Hikaru's skin.  It's good.  Too good.  Hikaru's going to wreck this moment, surely, if not this whole crazy affair.  He waits, but he's got to say something...Got to throw himself off this cliff it feels like — to risk everything for the chance of something real.

"Akira?"

Akira doesn't react.  He's shifted and is nuzzled into Hikaru's side, where Hikaru can feel his breath on his sweat-damp skin.

"Akira, I…" And then he realizes...Akira is asleep.

There's enough light falling through the window that Hikaru can see every detail of Akira's features.  He's never had the chance of looking at him for so long without facing those eyes.  It’s like observing a sleeping tiger.  Hikaru marvels at how long Akira's eyelashes are close up and strokes the strands of hair still in disarray across his forehead.

He's proud of how he can throw Akira into complete turmoil, transform this serious young man into a passionate and sensual creature and, perhaps, even a sensitive one. But he doesn't have an answer to that question yet.

Akira's expression of complete tranquility is one Hikaru isn't used to and he's spellbound.  Hikaru doesn't feel tired, so — resting on one elbow — he watches Akira sleep under the moonlight, all pale skin and dark shiny hair.  Nothing happens and it's eerily perfect.

What seems like only a minute later, Hikaru jolts awake in panic, wondering where he is and why he feels he's being held down.  Then he remembers and panics again — this is against the rules, he should have left... _should have_.  Not that he wanted to, but he should have and now he can't because Akira is holding him.  Did Akira snuggle up consciously or in his sleep?  The position is so affectionate and Hikaru can't help but hope it means something.  He wraps his arms around Akira in return and allows sleep to claim him once more.

Its broad daylight when he wakes up again.  He's alone in the bed but he can hear Touya moving around the apartment.  Terrified and excited, he wonders what will happen now.  He rises and creeps into the bathroom, knowing Akira will hear the shower and wondering if he will come and join him.  There are soaps and shampoos and all their scents, especially the citrus and avocado, remind him of Akira.  He's in his rival's territory here.  Akira never said he could use the shower let alone his shampoo. If there was a rule about that then he's broken it, he thinks with some satisfaction.  Akira doesn't join him in the shower, so Hikaru dries himself, wraps a towel around his waist and emerges into the kitchenette.

Akira is already dressed, smartly and formally. He has his bag and is putting on his shoes to go out.

He looks up and Hikaru meets his eyes, trying to express all his love for him in a single unguarded look.   _Akira, I want you, all of you._   But Akira's expression shows no sign of affection in return.  There’s a distance, as if they had just met at the institute, no flicker of more.  Hikaru feels a tight knot forming in his stomach.

"Oh, Shindou."  No sign or acknowledgement of last night… and no reaction to Hikaru's appearance — naked except for a towel and in his lover's apartment.  But then its day, and it hits home — theirs is a thing of the night, made only of shadows and secrecy.

"The door will lock itself when you leave, make sure it shuts properly. I have to go."

"Akira?"

And then Akira turns with fire in his eyes at the sound ofhis given name, but it's an icy fire.

"No, Shindou." Akira's features are taut and he screws his eyes shut as though looking at Hikaru is painful to him. "Not like this."

And with no further explanation he's out the door.

Hikaru can't give chase in nothing but a towel.  Besides, Akira's words have left him stunned.

He doesn’t feel like helping himself to breakfast.  There’s miso and he sees the light still flashing on the rice cooker — one just like his Mom’s  — but this isn’t his home.  He has no appetite.  He just wants to get out of there right now.  So he hurriedly pulls on yesterday's clothes and, giving Akira's door a much harder slam than necessary, makes his way to the street.

 

°*°*°*°

 

 _Do I have to be anywhere today?_ Standing the busy street in the too-bright daylight he tries to remember.  Does it even matter?  What just happened with Akira makes last night seem like some cruel fantasy.  He feels crushed, exhausted.

 _Akira, you have no idea how beautiful you are when you're asleep._ Sleep is something Hikaru hasn't had enough of.  He hasn’t had anything to eat either, but the emptiness inside him is something else than hunger.  He catches the scent of avocado and citrus, a familiar smell he associates with Akira, as it lingers in his own hair from when he used Akira's shampoo. That, too, is stolen, like Akira's tenderness.

 _But you moved to hold me in your sleep. Don't you even remember?_ Perhaps Akira remembered all too well and regretted it. Pushing that thought away Hikaru heads out of Akira's neighborhood.  But, in the autopilot of semi-wakefulness, he doesn't much look where he's going.  He wants to go to sleep again, with Akira's warm breath against his neck.

He's in the crowd waiting to cross the street, gazing at an animated billboard opposite: “Your own dream home, imagine it and we'll build it,” and on the screen virtual bricks and tiles build up into houses in seconds.  Another world, he sighs. He starts to cross, his eyes still on the ad.

There's a sudden squeal of tires and the shriek of a car horn at close range and he jumps as a van swerves to avoid him.   He's surrounded in hooting and angry voices.

"Idiot!"

"Jaywalker!"

"Watch where you're  going...Wanna get yourself killed?"

He freezes.  Inches from him there's a motorbike swung round, almost on its side, the long-haired rider hauling on it to bring it upright.  The people on the sidewalk are staring at him, the light wasn't even green and he'd stepped off anyway.  All around, drivers are leaning out of their windows to see why the traffic stopped.  A guy in a truck is shaking a fist.  But when Hikaru makes for the curb the biker meets him halfway.  He's not going to get run over, he's going to get beaten up!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I really..."

The bike's over by the roadside now, and it looks intact.

"Let's...just...cool it?" he tries.

Insect-like in leathers and shiny helmet, the biker advances, but he's actually pretty short and skinny. Unless he nuts Hikaru with the helmet, he can't do much harm.  Even so, he lunges and grabs and pulls Hikaru by the arm.

"HIKARU!!"

The yell is high pitched and right in his face. Then the biker lifts the helmet visor and huge brown eyes meet his. Akari!

"Hikaru! What are you doing in the middle of the road?"

He hasn't seen Akari in forever.  Akari on a motorbike? He's still trying to process this as she's pulling him onto the sidewalk.

"Hikaru? Are you okay?"

The traffic roars on by. He's staring at her, but still hasn't said anything.

Her eyes are wide, worried. Then she says,"come with me."

"What?"  She nods at the bike.

"Get on."  By now, Hikaru is past the point of caring what happens and so he climbs onto the bike.

"Hang on now."

"What? Where did _you_ get a motorbike?"

"My twentieth birthday!...Hang on," then she adds, "to me."

And so he does. The bike seems tiny and Akari even tinier. She kick-starts the motor and they pull away from the staring pedestrians and dive into the flow of the traffic.

 

°*°*°*°

 

It's been a long time since that one time Hikaru rode pillion.  It was with Tsubaki, back during his pro exam — forever ago.

Should he tell Akari he mistook her for a guy?  Akari is still very slight and all the leather hides her shape.

The journey is bumpy and windblown, and he's hanging on to Akari for dear life.  There’s a sensation of flying as the ground, the sky, and the buildings whip by.  He's lost — they're somewhere in the city he's never been before — and then they aren't anymore, they're speeding along an empty road bordered with green.

He's beginning to adjust to the sensations when she pulls into a parking lot and they stop.

There are bikes everywhere and their leather-clad owners stand around talking, admiring one another's machines and eating and drinking hot drinks from a food trailer that's set up shop.

Akari is no stranger here, people recognise and greet her.  He realises he knows next to nothing of her present life.

Then, without asking, he's got a carton of food in front of him and some hot tea.  They sit on the balustrade and look down on Tokyo through the midday haze.  He's still calming down from the ride when she asks, "Is everything alright? You look awful."

"Oh. Thanks." he replies, trying to laugh it off.  "And your leathers make you look like a guy."  She doesn't take the bait.

"It's Touya, isn't it?"

He wants to deny it, tell her nothing's wrong, but it's too late. And because Akari is there, and she's bought him noodles and fish cakes, which smell so good that he _is_ going to eat something after all, and because she's not part of _his_ world either he asks, "How did you know?"

"Because it always has been," she sighs.  "Look at your Go. You didn't start with Go until you met him and look what you've become."

 _Is_ _that what it looked like to everyone who couldn't see Sai?_ – that his Go career was solely down to his pursuit of Touya?  Hikaru takes a large bite of fish cake and makes no comment.

"Touya can be kinda scary," Akari goes on.  "But he's elegant, polite, good looking..." _Akari doesn't know the half of it._

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" _Then again…_

"And he doesn't reciprocate." _Straight to the nerve._

"But…" he starts.

"And you keep on waiting and hoping."

"We're lovers." That stops her dead.

"Oh," is all she says. But then, a second later, "You don't look very happy about it."

"It's…err…not official." _What am I supposed to say? That I'm Touya Akira's dirty little secret?_

"Whatever it is you keep going back for more.  No?  You give and you give, and you wait and you hope."  It isn't a question. "You can leave your life behind like that."  She's swinging her legs beneath her, every now and then grazing the tarmac with her boots. "You should try to hold out, see if he'll come for you, if you matter to him."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then at least you'll know."  She looks out into the far distance, then at her bike, then back him.  "You learn to stop hoping for the impossible.  You make your own way."  And her gaze falls on the bike again.

Sometimes, when she looks at her bike like that, it vaguely reminds Hikaru of Ogata-sensei and his car.

"Remember when Touya used to come looking for you at Haze?  If you matter to him, he'll…"

But she's interrupted by the deep rumble of a large motor and they both look around.

"Oh," exclaims Akari raising her eyes to the sky and giving Hikaru a smile, "Here comes the _Poser_."

"Tsubaki!" cries Hikaru, waving his arms.

"What! You mean you _know_ him? ! I ask myself what he does in life except pump iron and polish his Harley."

"He plays Go." says Hikaru, and it's the second time he's shocked her into silence.

Tsubaki pulls up on his shiny Harley-Davidson.

"Well, if it isn't Shindou the Go-pro, long time no see." his voice is still as loud. "Got yourself a bike now?" He dismounts and takes off his helmet and jacket, flexing his muscles in the breeze.

Tsubaki looks over Akari's bike, which appears even smaller with him standing beside it. With its cherry-red tank and custom-painted flowers, it surely belongs to a different species than Tsubaki's Harley.

He scratches his beard, laughs and says, "That's a real girl's bike, Shindou."

"That's exactly what it is," says Akari.

Tsubaki and Hikaru sit and play Go on a minuscule magnetic board Tsubaki keeps on his bike.  Akari hovers in the background rather like she used to at the school Go club.

He's not at his best to play well, but he gives Tsubaki the proper handicap corresponding to their difference in pro-amateur dan level. It's not surprising when he gets pushed to resign a little after an hour and a half, but he can't remember when he so enjoyed playing.

"The Meijin tournaments are gonna be open to amateurs, I hear."  Tsubaki booms at him.  "You better watch out Shindou-pro, before I beat you to a title!"

 

°*°*°*°

 

It's only after Akari has brought him home — putting the bike through its paces on the way and completely terrifying him —, after his mother has served a meal for the two of them and she's just turning to switch off the little flashing light on the rice cooker, that he realises he hasn't thought about Akira all afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ishala8 and Maiden of Books for betaing
> 
> Hikaru no Go is the property of Hotta and Obata. This is a non profit-making fanfiction.


End file.
